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Rh he had placed on guard both inside and out of the Meade residence should relax their vigilance for an hour and enable the nameless fiend to strike again?

Dusk deepened to darkness while Odell tortured himself with vain fears and imaginings, and still there was no sign of the return of Pete from the village. Tony shuffled in at last, however, muttering curses beneath his breath; and lighting a smoky lamp and an oil-stove in the corner, he started to prepare supper.

Odell watched him through warily half-closed eyes as he sliced ham, opened cans, and placed a huge loaf of bread and a wooden dish of butter on the table; and the detective realized suddenly that he himself was faint from hunger. No food had passed his lips since the previous night; and he dared not simulate a sudden return to consciousness now lest Tony redouble his vigilance.

He lay in a silent agony of craving, while the tantalizing odor of coffee filled the room, and Tony, still grumbling audibly over his confederate's delay, shuffled back and forth from shelves to table and stove.

All at once Odell narrowed his lids until only a mere slit remained, through which he gazed with greater intensity at his jailor's movements; for Tony had brought a battered tin tray to the table and placed upon it a plate of ham and beans, a steaming cup of coffee, and a great hunk of bread.

It was evidently his intention to feed the other prisoner, and Odell mentally writhed at his inability to establish communication with Miller. If only he could reach that tray unobserved and place upon it some token which would show his subordinate that he was near at hand and on the